


Werewolf Domestication Act of  1988

by happyhoney



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 80s Remus Lupin, All that depression, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-06-17 16:20:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15465336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happyhoney/pseuds/happyhoney
Summary: In 1988, the Ministry of Magic passes a bill in an effort to bring down the skyrocketing rate of werewolf attacks. Because of the new law, Remus Lupin is thrown into a government matchmaking scheme. He learns that nothing good comes out of an arranged marriage, even the love in it isn't strong enough to stand to the test.





	1. Chapter 1

Remus Lupin read the Daily Prophet every morning over breakfast. It was a habit that started in his fourth year when he needed a physical boundary between his food and James Potter, who was attempting to master the spitball. Relatively inexpensive and informative, reading the paper was a healthy habit that provided him with a structured morning and something to talk about with the men in the office. Remus, who had not had a proper social life if nearly a decade, was desperate to have something to talk about over break room tea that was not work-related. Manuscripts did not lend themselves to stimulating conversation. So Remus would skim the paper each morning, find the most interesting article, and present it with a joke during his lunch break every day.

He already had a few dirty quips lined up about the scandal between the minister and his aid. Benny, the young man who was the only other editor in Remus’ department, would almost certainly laugh and join in.

**_Ministry Rules New Werewolf Management Laws_ **

_Time and time again, werewolves have proved themselves as dangerous, ruthless creatures. At least once a month even seemingly docile wizards can turn into bloodthirsty beasts that will stop at nothing to kill any human they come across. Their ability to hide their true form and lurk in the darkest parts of our society, posing as normal witches or wizards, make them even more dangerous. Despite our best efforts to keep safe during the full moons, we are still not safe from these creatures._

_Werewolves have begun to attack both wizards and muggles during the day and in their human form. Last month sixteen people (eleven muggles, five wizards) were sent to the hospital after being attacked; nine out of the sixteen survived. The victims’ names were not released but Healers at St. Mungo's told us that they all suffered severe lacerations and those that survived were affected mentally by the incident. These human form attacks have not spread the curse to any victims but they are still deadly, and the ministry has been forced to take action. Based on the number of attacks that resulted in injury or death in the last six months, the Creature Care and Control Committee (the CCCC) predict up to another 200 attacks in the upcoming year._

_To make werewolves safer and more civilized members of our community, and to prevent any more vicious attacks like the ones we have seen the ministry has approved the Werewolf Domestication Act._

_"Multiple studies, from as far back as Frode Enger up to those by Lyall Lupin have proved it,” Mr. Taxidermy, the head of the CCCC and the Department of Magical Creatures said this morning after announcing the bill’s approval, "Werewolves are more amiable when they have significant bonds to other werewolves; no matter which physical form they’re in. Like most canines, they are pack animals. A sense of camaraderie is healthy for everyone- even monsters."_

_Taxidermy was referencing the groundbreaking Halfbreed Society Studies by Enger in 1507 and, of course, the scathing Half Human Evaluations by former department head Lupin in 1963._

_Werewolves have less social graces, to say the least than the rest of wizarding society. It is near impossible for them to create the interpersonal bonds they need to calm their inner beasts for an extended period. Because of this, the act has given the Ministry the right to create environments for werewolves to ensure the most effective bonds._

_Werewolves’ new environments will promote these kinds of bonds  Most werewolves are being removed from their current dwellings and are being placed on a reservation, or a "camp of brothers" in Mr. Taxidermy words, where they will share housing, community, and resources. It will inspire the camaraderie they need to allow the rest of us safety. These reservations will be highly supervised, but werewolves living on them are to be allowed to lead to their regular, daily activities after the ministry completes its primary evaluations. These areas will be safely kept away from condensed human populations and will be fully governed by non afflicted ministry workers. Werewolves living on these reservations will earn their stay by performing menial (most likely physical) jobs for the ministry._

_Other werewolves- females, and those deemed most capable of civic decency- are to be placed in pairs; united by law and the sacred nuptial bonding spells. This is the most experimental piece of the act and has faced great criticism. While drafting the bill, even members of the CCCC questioned if it was safe to exempt these few creatures from the constant monitoring that was available at the reservations and if it the old pure magic of the nuptial bonds would latch onto the soulless halfbreeds.  Taxidermy has assured the Ministry and the press that these werewolves will be monitored closely, but for this level of interpersonal bonds to blossom they need privacy, and that he has complete faith in the bonds and the officiants who cast them._

_The Ministry believes that werewolves in this arrangements will "experience great happiness as they are hand-picked for each other" and will “likely be stronger and more successful than the ones in the reservations.”_

_Werewolves will be receiving notices about their new placements via owl this week and relocated before the next full moon. On Thursday, 17 June, they will be meeting in the ministry to discuss these placements with the officer that will be overseeing them. Failure to attend this meeting or to comply with The Domestication Act ’s rulings will result in time in Azkaban._

_The Ministry assured us all that werewolves inside the ministry will be under close surveillance and all ministry workers will be safe. The ministry will be closed to the public on days of high werewolf circulation for the safety of the public. It will be the first time the Ministry has asked any werewolves, very well all the werewolves in Britain, to gather together._

_And while this news is both shocking and relieving to all of us, no matter how we beg, no press is outside on in the Ministry on this date to get more details._

 

Remus Lupin's face and knuckles stayed a ghostly white long after the shock had turned to fear.

The news came out of nowhere, and he had to read the article three times to believe it. He felt as if a large bird and flown into the back of his head. The paper crinkled in his hands.  

No one, not his father, not Dumbledore, not the Ministry, not even the other werewolves had said a word about it. He shuddered to think of the rampages the other werewolves were going on after hearing this news. The other werewolves he was going to have live with.

He would have to leave his home- his parents' home, his childhood home, the home he had just gotten back- to live with those monsters by the end of the month. It was something he has sworn never to do again.

_Monsters._  The paper crumpled between his fingers. He shouldn’t be so harsh, after all, he was one of too. He was a monster, according to the Daily Prophet, and The Ministry, and every other living being who knew about his condition. Those who had forgiven his curse had left him on this earth long ago.

When he last spent time with them in a group- _a pack_ , Greyback always insisted- he was doing so as a man disguised as a monster. He went because he had a job to do. Now he was to go plainly as a monster, no disguise or employment to keep his humanity.

Remus Lupin's face regained all its pigmentation once the fear turned to anger.

The passing of the act was not only sudden but stupid. Lupin had seen werewolves: one on one, in a group, in a pack, in human form, in wolf form, in the mirror. It was safe to say he knew a thing or two about them. He knew that they were outcasts. He knew a great deal of them worked for You-Know-Who back in the day, and that a few must still be in Azkaban. He knew they were territorial. He knew they had to shave three times a day around a full moon once they turned 14. He knew they did not play nicely with one another in wolf form. He knew they were not brotherly, and that they held ranks not hands. He knew to have them around each other brought out more canine behavior than human. He knew they had a nasty habit of mauling and murdering people.

He knew those studies (More accurately; he knew one of the studies. However, Remus felt that if you read one well-renowned study on werewolves, you had read them all.  Seeing his father’s name on the page ignited a familiar fire in his chest.) did not give enough information to properly back the acts rulings. He knew the law would not protect the general population nor would it make the werewolves more domestic; it just a way to make people feel safe and monsters feel weak.

He knew the whole deal was absolute fucking bullshit. He knew this fact, and felt it crawl up this throat until he had no choice but to say it out loud three times, and throw the paper across the kitchen. The paper wasn’t heavy enough to make to the far wall and landed open on the table. A quidditch play flew across the pages. He looked wildly around the kitchen for something else to throw.

He knew it was childish to have such a tantrum, and later in the evening, Remus would reflect on his behavior with disgust. As a man who spent the greater part of his existence focused on discipline and control, he found wild outbursts (something he experienced regularly) particularly shameful.  Small flames turned the coils of the stovetops red.

Remus Lupin's face- now almost beet red- turned a slight shade of green when he saw the Ministry Owl on his windowsill. 


	2. Last Minute Information

Remus Lupin had a special talent for avoiding the inevitable.

Three days had gone by, and the ministry notice was still unread, unopened, and under a stack of folded newspapers. Twice he had made a move to pick it up, but when he began to think about what was inside the wax sealed envelope his legs stiffened, and his chest tightened and the sound of teeth tearing flesh rang through his ears, and he would end up telling himself that there would be a better time to open the letter. It was not as if there was going to be anything important to read in it anyway. The ministry always seemed to assume the werewolves were illiterate.

He would go to the ministry on the date listed in the prophet and allow himself to be dragged off to whichever  _ reservation _ the ministry saw most fit. If he was not going to be allowed any say in the matter, he might as well have a bit of an adventure.

He didn't expect it to be much different from when he stayed with Greyback's pack for The Order (another endeavor he had not been briefed for), and he wanted at least one element of it all to be unexpected. He was older now, and the war had been over for years, it would be almost cruel not to let himself drift along and have some fun. 

Once it stopped being fun, he would drink himself to death. A pack wasn't a pack without a bit of booze, and at least one element of surprise. He would floo into the office today, resign before anyone could fire him, and spend the rest of his time as a man in whichever bar would let him start serving him before noon.

However, this plan changed when Albus Dumbledore appeared in Lupin's sitting room the day before the scheduled assembly. (Not that Lupin was counting down the seconds until the assembly. Anyone who was mildly interested would know that it was the next morning at 9 a.m. Ministry workers would come out to find him and create a scene if he didn't arrive by 8:30, leaving him with sixteen and a half hours until he'd be tossed into whatever hellhole the ministry chose.) The old wizard never appeared unannounced in his home just to tell him that things were going according to plan. The old wizard never appeared unannounced in his home at all.

Lupin spat a mouthful of tea back into his mug.

"Ah, Remus. I'm glad you're here." Dumbledore clasped his hands together across his chest. His wand weaved between three of his fingers. He seemed genuinely relieved to find Lupin in his own home. Lupin wondered what he would have done if he wasn't there. 

"Hello, sir," Lupin replied. Feeling more confused than embarrassed, he wiped his chin dry. Dumbledore looked just as he always did; whimsical, wrinkled and unnervingly airy. The Headmaster rarely gave anything away.

"Are you going out, my boy?" Dumbledore gestured to Lupin's clothing. Lupin did not own many fine things, but he did feel that if one was going to storm into their boss' office and resign unannounced that one should do it wearing their better robes.

"Work yes, I was going to- ah-"

"Are you still working for Burtles?" Dumbledore held Lupin's eye. He had been working at Burtles Publishing House for some time now, but he hadn't told anyone about it.

"Yes." But not for much longer, Lupin added in his head. Employment was always a turbulent situation for him. He could never stay in once place for too long, and it grew too exhausting to update everyone each time he got or lost a job.

"I hope you do not plan on resigning like you did from Abernathy's business. If anything I would think you'd be wanting to work more considering the news."

Lupin looked warily at Dumbledore, trying to understand just what he meant. To start, Lupin did not resign from his position at Abernathy's Apothecary he was flat out sacked. His higher ups had connected his absences to his condition, and he was out the door the next day. It took him nearly a year of laying low to get his editing job at Burtles, which was a solid job that he occasionally enjoyed with employers that didn't ask any questions. While it would pain him to quit there, Lupin saw it as a much nobler thing to do than simply stop showing up. The ministry wasn't going to let him leave the reservations to go work a job that benefitted them in no way shape or form. That would interfere with the CCCC's plan to use werewolves as slave labor, and his plan of dying from gout.

"I am not entirely certain as to what you mean." Lupin finally said, placing his mug of backwash tea on the arm of the sofa. He had a sinking feeling that he was not going to make it into the office today.

"Mr. Lupin, I had expected to hear from you over the past few days. I've begun to worry that you are taking the Ministry's legislations too well." Dumbledore began again, this time with a more authoritative tone. "I did not expect that you would be overjoyed with the news."

"Sir, I...Sir…" Lupin stared at the wall above Dumbledore's left ear, the apprehension in his gut turning to panic. Perhaps the attacks and the ministry's response to them were more than met the eye. Greyback and his closest followers always had dreams on werewolves rising to power. But Lupin never thought those dreams could be any more than just that. "Sir?"

"Yes?" Dumbledore, patient as ever, raised his right brow and waited.

"Sir, I supposed that we - " Lupin took a nervous breath, "could consider this an opportunity. They couldn't question if I was one of them now; not with the circumstances. The increase in time spent as one of them would allow me to grow closer to them all - the intended purpose - and I could do work like I did before. Catch any loose threads, yeah? There has been a dramatic influx of attacks, I understand, and while I'm sure it's not serious dark magic, perhaps there needs to be more than ministry intervention. I'm not sure; I would have contacted you if I believed that it was that kind of problem. I-"

"I do not think that will be necessary, Remus. Am I correct in assuming that you have not read your letter?" Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. His left eyebrow joined the right directly below his hairline. Lupin stopped short.

"Erm, well, Sir, you see, I read the article, and I received the letter. Rotten owls the ministry has, angry little buggers." Lupin reverted into his 11-year-old-self, receiving his first detention; a stuttering, muttering, mess trying to avoid embarrassment with terrible humor.

"I recommend you read it before we speak any further, Remus." Dumbledore floated past him and into the kitchen. Before he gathered his wits and followed the man into the kitchen, Dumbledore floated back into the sitting room and placed the letter in his hand. Lupin did not dare question how the man knew where it was. His hands shook as he tore the envelope; the wax seal sticky against his palm. Lupin's hands gripped the sides of the paper.

"Here's the Daily Prophet article again." He put the first page aside with excessive force. Dumbledore didn't pick it up. Remus skimmed the next page, "They want to congratulate me on starting my new life, and make sure I'm ready for my companion." The rest of the letter joined the first page on the table. Lupin tried to keep a light tone. "Personally, I find it all very insincere. Rude even. No one of my kind is exactly apre -"

Dumbledore tapped on the last page in Lupin's hand. Lupin's mouth opened and shut several times, much like a fish's, as he read the paper and tried to come up with something to say. The panic that had filled most of Lupin's torso remained there. It branched out into his arms and sank roots into his stomach and was only weighed down by a heavy sense of dread. The two men stood silently for a long time.

Finally, Lupin built up the nerve to look at Dumbledore. His face was pale, and his eyes were wide. The old man nodded in understanding but did not reflect Lupin's desperation.

"It seems this is not the best time to discuss the matter any further." Lupin did not respond as Dumbledore drew closer to the fireplace. "Such an unusual picture, don't you think? The ministry never takes their own these days."

With a loud crack, Dumbledore was gone, and Lupin was alone again.

"Fuck," Lupin said once, staring out at the empty room. And then he repeated himself, a bit louder. "Fuck!"

Honestly, when he had read about it in the Daily Prophet, he thought it was a joke. Something the ministry had thrown out to distract from their new way to imprison people.

It was not a joke, nor was it a mere distraction. It was just as real as the capital bolded text,  **DESIGNATED SPOUSE** , across the top of the page in Lupin's hand.

Dumbledore did not seem to want to change anything, and he left before Lupin could have asked him any questions so it couldn't be so terrible. Dumbledore always had his interest in mind. Usually. The old man at least had the decency to prevent him from stumbling into the wrong line at the ministry. Living with one werewolf had to be better than living with thirty. He got to keep his home. He got to keep his job. He got to keep his life. Sort of.

Panic and dread and a renewed feeling of anger twisted through Lupin's body. He did not want a companion. He did not want a wife. He did not want to invite another werewolf into his home. He did not want to go to the ministry. He wanted to order and plans and answers and control.

Lupin ran his hands over his face and pulled at his short hair. Again he swore, and the forgotten cup of tea on the sofa began to boil.

He didn't have to treat her as a wife, so he would not. He could treat her as a roommate - a cellmate. She wouldn't want anything to do with him either, and keeping distance between them would be easy. Lupin had met females of his kind. None of them were the ideal company; each stupider, rougher and more jaded than the last. All that the ministry wanted was for them not to kill anyone. And, even though you never could tell, she didn't look to be the killing type.

Lupin loosened his grip on the sheet of paper in his hands and read it over carefully. Thirteen times.

The little information on the sheet was very simple. Her name was Sally J. Riley (A name he had never heard before). She was 19 years old (Nine full years his junior and far too young to be getting married to a stranger). She worked as a laborer not too far south of where he lived (He did not recognize the town or business). The spaces for family information and schooling were left blank (If she had attended Hogwarts their paths would have never crossed anyway). A small photograph of her face that had been torn around the edges was stuck the top corner of the paper.

Dumbledore had made sure to mention the picture; Lupin stared at it for five minutes before he understood why. He leaned against the arm of the sofa next to his still simmering tea and examined it.

It was a copy of the original photograph, he could tell by the dulled colors. The girl's head was turned, and she was just barely smiling. She had a long thin scar that started on her forehead and trailed down across her eye, but it was not bad enough for him to think her vision would be impaired. Both her eyes were large and dark, and while they were still, they didn't appear to be any part of blind. He, himself had longer and deeper scars scattered across his face and body, and he was fine.

It was obvious she didn’t know her picture was being taken and Lupin’s stomach churned. He knew he would not have given the photo a second thought if Dumbledore had not mentioned it, but he still felt upset with himself for giving it so much time. 

It was as he reached to turn the page over that it hit him. Dumbledore had not meant that her face was strange in any way he meant the photograph itself was unusual. The eye had not once blinked, the nose hadn't twitched, and the lips never came to a full close; nothing had moved. It was taken with a muggle camera. The ministry didn't play with muggle technology for no reason.

Lupin very suddenly felt that he was going to vomit. He stood up and began to pace around the kitchen, leaving the contents of the ministry letter in the other room. If he was going to vomit it was best to do so near a sink.

He would meet her tomorrow in the ministry after all the other werewolves had been moved to the assignments. Maybe she wouldn't go with him; refuse him outright and run away. Maybe he wouldn't take her with him. Maybe he wouldn't show up at all. Maybe she would prove to be a monster, and they wouldn't be able to allow her to leave. Maybe he would threaten to eat a ministry worker's child; the full moon was coming up fast. Maybe they would both get sent to Azkaban and get married in their the ministry would realize this was breaking some law and completely and utterly mad. For Merlin's sake, the whole fiasco was getting more ridiculous by the second.

After shoving the papers back into their hiding place and emptying seven beers, Lupin went to check that the guest room upstairs looked like a guest room and not a storage closet.

Lupin laughed his way up the stairs. He had not been so terrified in a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a blah chapter i'm sorry but we need it okay. we need it.


	3. Meeting and the Ministry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so college happens and im bad at updating but i did it? we meet the girl?

Remus Lupin was not a regular at the Ministry of Magic- in fact, he avoided it and it’s employees as much as possible. Still, he was fairly certain that this was not how facility usually operated or treated visitors. 

Due to its location in the London underground the Ministry of Magic was poorly lit and damp, but because of the constant flow of people through the corridors and tunnels it had always seemed lively and warm. That morning however, the Ministry was empty and cold. Dark empty corridors spread out in every direction and the sound of dripping water and three sets of footsteps echoed through them. 

Lupin wondered if they had put up wards around every possible escape route between the visitor’s entrance and the werewolves’ meeting place or if the ministry really had cleared out for the occasion. Concealing charms, when done properly, could make the most spectacular things disappear from sight but they couldn’t make the nature of sound change. No concealing charm could hollow out a space so much that it produced an echo. 

He wouldn’t blame anyone for taking the day off when all the nation’s werewolves were storming through their workplace. Lupin was lucky enough to have arrived after the majority of the others had been  gone through and could spot the damage they had caused. The windows in the booth down had been broken, shards of glass spilled several meters into the entryway. In one area large patches of the walls had been burnt and splattered with dark purple residue Lupin didn’t recognize. He did not pay attention to it for long. He knew better than to be surprised. 

Most of Lupin’s focus was directed at the two men in front of him. The first man had met him at the door. He was short and square and had Lupin’s wand stored in a pouch around his waist. The man had not introduced himself and Lupin had an instant dislike for him. The second man was taller and had joined them about two minutes into their walk through the ministry. 

The shared a look Lupin couldn’t quite find the meaning in- perhaps it had something to do with the second man’s swollen eye- and kept walking. He trailed behind the two men, trying to remember every turn they made in case he would need to escape. The further they traveled into the ministry the slimier the walls grew. 

The three men took a sharp right and stopped before a tall wooden door. The first man reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a key. 

“I got it from here, Lewis.” The first man said. Without a word or a trace of hesitation the second man, Lewis, turned around and disappeared around a corner. The first man, who was now left alone with a werewolf, crossed his arms and lightly tisked. Lupin was surprised. 

It was the only time tonight he had seen the man look soft. As soon as Lupin got into the ministry the man had been hardened and brusque. He had taken Lupin’s name, address, and made an argument to take his wand before he even saying hello. He had made no move to restrain Lupin, but scowled and barked in such a way that would lead anyone to believe that he had license to he would take him down and was, perhaps, a bulldog in a past life.

He and his colleague hadn’t shared any pleasantries either. Their conversation exactly went as follows;  “So they put up a fight?” 

“Yeah, a few. Old guys.” 

“Knew they’d be trouble.” 

“They’re all out now. It’s been a long day. This you’re last one?” 

“Yeah.”

Lupin wasn’t sure he had many other expressions than a scowl. 

Once the man placed the key in the door it itself swung open. Yellow light from the room shined out into the hallway. Both men stood still. 

Lupin could hear his heartbeat in his ears and the moisture drip down the wall. He wanted to run. He could retrace every step he had taken in the ministry that day and if the building really was empty there was no way he would be caught. He could easily outrun the man with him. Lupin’s stride was nearly twice as long. If he had his wand he would have already disappearated. 

“Go in.” The man pointed to the door. “We’ll meet you in there momentarily.” 

Lupin ground his teeth and walked past the man and into the room. He squinted. The door shut noisily behind him and he was alone. He examined the room with a nauseating curiosity. 

No windows or fireplaces were to be seen, but a few lamps that shed a pleasant yellow light. The furniture and walls were a stainless white. On this side the door was metal, and a series of  gears and locks twisted and clicked. 

If he ignored the smells, and sounds, and the overwhelming desire to melt himself and seep into the carpet in order to disappear forever he could pretend he was at the Potter’s wedding.

The event, no matter how grand James and Lily wanted or deserved it to be, was kept small and almost secretive due to circumstance; still it was all beautiful. Everything Lily planned was beautiful.  Lupin had received photographs - muggle ones unfortunately; the ones given to the Evans family - of the occasion, as he was unable to attend. James had promised all would be forgiven once he and Lily made a terrible scene at Lupin’s wedding. The chest pain Lupin had woken up with started to grow worse. 

He positioned himself on the far side of the room. He didn’t want to press his back against the wall and corner himself, but he wanted to make sure that he could see everything inside the room; a standing point that could work to his favor. 

He wanted to see the creases in the wallpaper, and the flames wave in the lamps. He did not think of how the draft from the hallway would shift the flames. He wanted to see the stitches in small sofa unravel and his feet sink into the carpet. He did not think about how the feet that would indent this carpet would drag across the floors of his home.  He wanted to know every inch of the room and and every groove in the door. He did not think of tackling the man, taking back wand, stunning him, the girl, and whoever else came in with them. He did not think of running and not stopping until he was out the ministry’s reach. 

He wondered how useful the dying potted plant would be as a weapon. If he threw it and it hit someone it looked heavy enough to cause some damage. If he threw it at someone and it broke it would cause damage and make a distraction worthy mess. As long as he didn’t get dirt on his shoes it would make for a much better get away. 

Lupin pick up the plant and weighed the pot in his hands. It was lighter, and fuzzier than he had expected- the pot must have been transfigured from something with feathers- and wouldn’t make a decent weapon at all. 

The door swung open and banged against the wall. Lupin’s knuckles turned white against the pot. 

A woman about Lupin’s age was the first to enter.  Dark purple heeled shoes left small indents in the carpet. The flames in the lamps fluttered ever so slightly. The pot in Lupin’s hand wouldn’t be heavy enough to move a hair on her head. She looked at him for a moment before deciding that whatever was still in the hall was far more entertaining. 

The bulldog man followed. His frown was deeper than before and his eyebrows pulled together. His shoes, like Lupin predicted, made indents very similar to his own. One hand was placed on the pouch of wands on his waist and the other was outside the doorway, holding on to something Lupin could not see. 

“You can’t just stand in the hallway. Come in.”  The man said out the doorway to whatever he was holding on to. The wall made it difficult to hear his exact words, but from his tone one could assume he was speaking to a very stubborn animal. 

“We could have gotten her a leash.” The woman said lightly. She looked at Lupin and wrinkled her nose. “Honestly, I don’t know why we can leave them loose at all.” 

Lupin reconsidered throwing the plant. 

“Not now, Mullen. We’re already behind schedule.” The man said, leaning into the room. He threw a warning look towards Lupin, as if he knew his plan. Turning back to the doorway, the man set his jaw and tugged. “I’m not going to ask you again, Riley.” 

“You weren’t really asking.” A new barely audible voice mumbled. The man sighed.  

The girl entered the room elbow first. Her feet reluctantly dragged across the floor. Rubber heels of her dirty boots dug into the carpet. She was much taller than the man and the imprints her feet left were much larger. Her muggle clothes didn’t make the pleasant swishing sound that wizarding robes did. 

She looked much younger than Lupin had hoped she would. Despite her furrowed brow, her eyes wide, her cheeks were red and her entire body trembled. If the man did not have such a tight grip on her she would have either fell to the floor or turn around and bolted out the door. Lupin was not sure which one would be better. 

If she fell he would have to pity her, and feel obligated to go to her and help. That was not the image he wanted to show the ministry; he couldn’t look soft. He had no feelings for the trembling girl nor would he develop any and it was foolish for the ministry to think otherwise. 

If she ran they would catch her. The ministry was full of tunnels and hidden passages, so even if she had magic she would be unable to get away from them. Obviously, this was the first time she had been in the building, being a muggle an all. She probably didn’t even know she was a werewolf until last week.  _ Muggles.   _

She did neither. The girl stood as close to the door as the man’s arm would allow and very tentatively looked around. Most of her energy was spent bouncing on the balls of her feet and giving the two guards she came in with a series of desperate and contemptuous looks. She glanced at Lupin for less than a second before beginning to twist her arm out of the man’s hold. 

Lupin rearranged his grip on the potted plant. He held it with one hand so the base of the pot tapped against his thigh where his wand normally rested.  The pouch where his wand was kept hung loosely around the other man’s waist. (The other man who could be easily knocked over. Who held the pouch that could be easily opened. Who stood next to two young women who could be easily incapacitated once Lupin had a wand again.)  Lupin swallowed hard. 

“He’ll be here in a moment, Yodel. Don’t get your-” Mullen started at the man.  

“Don’t. He was meant to be here before we were.” The man, Yodel, replied before she could finish. 

On cue, the door swung open again and a tall man, with clean blonde hair stepped in. Lupin recognized him as Mr. Taxidermy from the Daily Prophet. When he was first appointed his position many people thought that his name was a pun by The Prophet; a jab at his plastic smile and tight face. It was not. 

"Good to see we’re all here.” Taxidermy said, clasping his hands in front of him. “Mullen, Yodel, I trust everyone got here safely.” 

On the other side of the room Mullen smiled and nodded, and Yodel gave an affirmative grunt. 

“Delightful. It’s always so exciting having guests.” He turned on his heel and positioned himself between Mullen and Yodel, so he could see both Lupin and the girl without turning his head. “Mr. Lupin, meet Miss. Riley. Miss. Riley, you're soon to be Mrs. Lupin." Taxidermy smiled so wide his teeth gleamed but his eyes were cold. Lupin reconsidered his plan; the flower pot was no longer an option, but one of the lamps looked rather sturdy. "It's always good for your kind to have a proper introduction, act like proper humans for once." He could break his nose with just his hands if he had to. "Now that we all know each other it's time to discuss why we're really here. Ms. Riley do you know?" He spoke to the girl like she was a child; condescending and slow. Lupin tried to shake the idea that she was one.

"For the safety of non-afflicted folk." Her voice was dry. 

She had wrapped her arms around her middle and curled her shoulders in, as if she had been punched in the stomach. Taxidermy smiled and nodded at her. Lupin frowned. 

"It's a win-win really, your people get to be happy, everyone else gets to be safe. You'll be living together from this point on, Riley your belongings have been moved already. You'll be married next Monday- right after the full moon, mind you- and you'll be visited by a ministry official every few weeks, just to check in." 

This man, Lupin thought, would be dead by next week if he was going to talk like this to all the werewolves. Even the werewolves who considered themselves as something other than human did not like to be spoken to as if they were animals. They weren’t bad dogs that needed training they were beasts that could not be contained. Wild and vicious and ready to fight at any sign of a threat. 

"What exactly are you going to be checking on?" Lupin's voice was rougher than it was early that day. Yodel took the girl’s elbow and pulled her towards him. She did not resist. 

"We just need to be sure that everyone is getting along. The Ministry must be assured that you can behave humanely. We've had concerns about how some of you would work together. With you two, however, I am sure everyone will make it out just fine." The man's smile hadn't faltered since he entered the room. Taxidermy rubbed his hands together and turned to Yodel and Mullen. "I think that's about it. Can you two think of anything else?"

“Very thorough explanation, Sir.” Mullen replied. 

“I think we should note that the plants aren’t complementary.” Yodel said. 

Without a word Lupin released his death grip on the plant. The pot did not break on impact but simple made a hollow  _ thump _ and split half his contents onto the floor. His blood that had been pumping so hard he could hear it in his ears and feel it in his toes, rose to the surface and turned his face red. For a long moment everyone stared at the pot and it’s contents next to Lupin’s shoes. 

Mullen cleared her throat. 

"Then I think it's time for you two to go home. Yodel here can lead you out. Mr. Lupin, you may be pleased to know that your  _ fiancée _ has already been exposed to the Floo network. It will be safest for everyone if you take her with you in one trip though. It’s been a long day for all of us., I’m sure we’d all agree it would be nice to go home. Peacefully."

He was talking to the girl now, not Lupin. She looked him in the face and clenched her jaw.  Taxidermy's smile grew even wider as he left the room just as suddenly as he entered it, leaving the door open behind him. 

The meeting had ended. 

* * *

 

It was a silent walk out of the ministry and Lupin, who was leading the group, wanted to hex himself. Yodel and the girl walked two strides behind him. 

He knew that there was nothing he could have said to them to change their minds, but he felt like a coward for not trying. He could have protested. He could have fought them. He could have refused. He could have stayed at home and made the ministry hunt him down. He could have done the noble thing and gone to Azkaban instead of letting the Ministry rope him into their experiment. 

Once the wall of fireplaces was in eyesight the girl stopped moving. Lupin slowed down but continued to move forward and pretended not to notice how now only one set of footsteps echoed so different in the corridor than three. 

Now more than ten paces behind Lupin, Yodel whispered sharply to the girl. If she had been shorter he would have been able to whisper into her ear, but as she was a whole head taller than him he had to very harshly whisper upward.  

Lupin casually eavesdropped; straining his ears without standing still or turning his head. No words were discernible but the dark urgency of Yodel’s message could be heard from a mile away. His words were rushed and there were long  pauses between his sentences where the girl was meant to reply. The girl did not speak, but during the fourth pause she inhaled deeply twice through her nose and the footsteps started again. 

When Yodel and the girl caught up, Lupin was already reaching for the floo powder. The girl folded her shoulder and with one shaky look at Yodel stepped into the fireplace next Lupin. Lupin held out his hand. Yodel rummaged around in his pouch and returned his wand. 

“I’ll be seeing you.” He said. 

“I’m sure.” Lupin rolled his wand between his fingers. 

The girl tensed as Lupin recited his address and dropped the powder. 

She didn’t understand why the green flames at her feet did not burn. She thought that maybe she had already been set on fire. 

* * *

 

They stumbled out of the small fireplace into the dark home. The girl exiting to the right and Lupin to the left, directly onto a small trunk. 

Taxidermy had said that all the girl’s belongings had been delivered but Lupin was sure that they left a few behind. The trunks children brought to Hogwarts were bigger than the one at his feet. He looked around for more boxes. There were none. 

The girl shuffled over and nudged the trunk with her foot. Her shoulders were up to her ears and shuddering and Lupin feared she was going to cry. He was never good at comforting people, very well crying young women who he was living with and going to marry. 

She sharply turned towards to him, her shoulders back and hand out, "Sally."

"Remus." He had stared at her a moment-perhaps a moment too long- before returning the gesture. Her hand, despite its firm grip, was very soft. 

She pulled her hand back quickly, careful not to linger. “It’s good to meet you.” She mumbled and glanced quickly from her toes to Lupin’s face six or seven times before he replied. 

“There’s a room upstairs you can stay in. It’s small but it’s,” He had spent last night drunkenly dusting it, “clean.” 

“Oh,” The girl had moved to the other side of the trunk, creating as much space between Lupin and herself as possible. Her chin started to wobble. “Thanks.” 

“It’s the first door on the left upstairs. I can take your-” Lupin pointed his wand to move the trunk. 

“No! No, no I got it. Don’t worry about it, please. I got it. Thank you.” The girl snatched up the trunk, holding it from underneath and spun around until she spotted the stairs. Lupin did not move to follow her as she pounded up the stairs but he did hear another choked ‘thank you’ and the locking of her door.  

Lupin stared at the empty space for a brief moment before following her up the stairs to his own bed. The ministry must have charmed her belongings; making the trunk deeper and lighter. There was no way she could be strong enough to carry that kind of weight up stairs at that speed. At least certainly he hoped there wasn’t. 

Remus was weary. He hadn’t felt so weak in a long time. 


	5. The First Night

Remus Lupin lay in his bed that night trying to think of a time when he had felt more uncomfortable in his own home. He couldn't come up with much. Trying to sleep while his nineteen-year-old fiancee was very audibly sobbing down the hall was as awkward as it had ever been. 

She had started to truly sob the moment he had gotten into bed. He had been waiting for her to cry most of the night because she had spent most of their time together shaking, hugging herself, and taking forcefully even breaths that displayed every tendon in her neck. 

Lupin wasn’t sure what he would do if she started to cry in front of him- in his current situation ignoring her was clearly the best option, but if she were in front of him he might be compelled to act differently- but luckily he did not have to be. She had been completely silent from the moment she scurried up the stairs until he closed the door to his room. 

There was not one gasping breath, or whimper, or even a sniff for the full fifteen minutes it took Lupin to wash his face, brush his teeth, change into bed clothes, and stare at himself in the mirror until couldn’t stand his face any longer and felt brave enough to creep past her door and into his own room. 

The bedroom was dark and quiet when left the bathroom and he let himself believe the delusion that she had gone to bed. It was not so preposterous that she would be asleep. She had been in that room for the better part of an hour with no stimuli while Lupin stayed downstairs and reviewed the day's events, and was probably exhausted. He could not think of anything better for a person to do in that time than sleep. In her time alone he believed that she had relaxed enough to fall asleep and soon he would follow her. Perhaps when he woke up she would vanish, and this whole thing would be nothing more than a bad dream. 

Lupin’s dreamlike assumption was incorrect. 

The lock on his door clicked, and Lupin flopped into bed and groaned into his mattress. He was tired, exhausted, thoroughly spent and he was more than ready to lay in bed and ignore everything around him until he was asleep. That was when it began. 

A muffled inhale and the wail that followed was only the beginning. For what felt like hours cries, and wails, and sobs, and a dull humming moan came out of the girl’s room and directly into his.

There were random moments of silence. They never lasted for more than thirty seconds at a time, but gave Lupin just enough time to hope that she had finished her terrible display of emotion. 

The space between them (which included three solid walls, a closet, the entire bathroom, a pillow, and a clearly ineffective silencing charm) was not great enough to deaden the noise. No words, but gasps and hums and sobs echoed through the otherwise silent house. 

Lupin hid under the cover and closed his eyes. Lupin counted his breath. Lupin focused on the sensations in his hands and chest. Lupin wondered if he could return the girl; put the girl a burlap sack and leave her next the the ministry entrance, never to see her again. Lupin held his ears and tried to remember all the lyrics to old jazz songs his mother loved. Lupin thought about what it would be like if he were set on fire. Lupin tried his best to sleep. Lupin gave up.

“Fuck it.”

He took his head out from underneath his pillow and rolled out of bed. The house felt warm, but not uncomfortably so and much cooler than he had felt hiding under the sheets. The balls of his feet left damp spots on the floor as he left his room. Lupin had been varying degrees of ‘far too warm’ all day. 

Maybe he wouldn’t be able to hear anything downstairs; then his mind could be still and he could sleep. The sofa was not uncomfortable and it was long enough that he could lay flat and only his calves and feet would hang off the edge. 

His door swung shut behind him; creaking loudly until it slammed into place. The rest of the hallway fell silent. At least he knew the girl could hear and had the decency to try and be quiet. Maybe she thought that he hadn’t been able to hear her from inside his own room. If he went back into his bedroom quietly, and didn’t shut the door behind him she would stay quiet for the rest of the night. 

He was, however, already more than halfway to the stairs, and it would be a shame to turn back now. Standing in front of the door to the girl’s dark room it would be foolish to do anything other than keep keep moving. The back of his neck was too hot where he stood, and there was firewhiskey downstairs.   

The quiet lasted only lasted until he got to the bottom of the stairs. 

Despite how grossly pathetic and nearly infuriating it was, a large part of him wanted to go back and try to comfort her. This, Lupin, decided was a stupid thing to want. 

He scolded himself- his sleep deprived, half mad, generally overwhelmed, clearly irrational self- for even entertaining the idea. 

What did he think he would accomplish by talking to the girl tonight? He wouldn’t be able to resolve the issue, if anything he would make it worse. If she wanted to talk to him, she would have approached him. It wasn’t as if he had locked her in the dungeon; at any time she could have asked for company or assistance. She was physically just fine, and mentally, well, that was her own business. Her business that he wanted absolutely nothing to do with.   

He did not know the girl, nor did he ever want to. It made him nauseous to remember her face- how her dark eyes had never fully focused on one thing, or how grey her tan skin looked, or how her mouth pressed itself into a tight thin line- and he couldn’t get his thoughts to form her name. 

Lupin stomped around the downstairs. Opening and closing all the cabinets, scowling at all their contents, he could not find what he was looking for. 

There were far more reasons for him to avoid her than be close to her, as well. It would be foolish, treacherous even, to do anything that might start a bond between them. 

A relationship- even if it was just a platonic one- was dangerous for him. He knew nothing about her and she was living in his house. He didn’t know what her family was like; if they were going to be a problem in the future, or if she even had one. He didn’t know about her education. He didn’t know about her abilities. He didn’t know her preferences or personality. He didn’t know her strength. He didn’t even know how the Ministry had found her. Had she committed a crime? Been involved in a magical incident? Had she been hurt? Did she attack a wizard? Did she murder someone? 

She was a werewolf after all; there was no telling what she could have done. 

And worst of all, if they got along the Ministry would think they were winning and Lupin didn’t know what he would do then. The fight was lost the moment he entered the ministry that morning, but didn’t want the Ministry know that. 

Lupin dropped the kettle onto the stove. Water sloshed and he cursed. 

Lupin's stomach twisted; all of his entrails trying to force themselves up and out through his chest. 

He was not afraid of the girl, and he was not afraid of the Ministry; not exactly. He was afraid of spending the rest of his life with the girl, and he was afraid of going to Azkaban if did not. He was afraid of all future full moons and the havoc they would bring. He was afraid that they would kill each other. He was afraid this is what the Ministry intended to happen all along.

This was not the first time Lupin had thought about another werewolf killing him, but it was the first time he was so disturbed by it. Somehow the constant worry of Greyback tearing him to shreds wasn’t as bad as the idea that the girl might be able to hurt him. The smell and taste of blood and death filled his senses. 

The quiet was not clearing his mind as he hoped it would. If anything it was making his thoughts louder. He needed to settle himself. He pulled a box of tea bags from the cabinet. 

Lupin tried to list the reason why the new arrangement could be helpful. The Ministry’s reasoning was obviously asinine, but perhaps there was something beyond that. Dumbledore didn’t seem to think that it was terrible, so there had to be some perk to it. 

It could make him seem more normal. A surprise marriage to a significantly younger woman was not normal.

He could use new social connections to find better employment. She was a muggle.

She could make him muggle connections to detect wizarding interference. She was a laborer. 

She would, in turn, help him become less of a danger to society. He wouldn’t be a danger if he were in Azkaban or dead. 

Maybe Dumbledore thought Lupin would be happy being married.

The idea nearly threw Lupin into a state similar to the girl’s. He stomped around the kitchen; now desperate to find the firewhiskey. He had opened a small bottle not two nights before;  _ where could it be?  _

None of this would be so bad if it wasn't being labeled as a marriage. Lupin could handle living with someone. He had been living alone most of his adult life, but he knew how to share his home. Oddly matched roommates were tolerable.

“Aha!” Lupin pulled a bottle half full of amber liquid out of a cabinet with a mug. “Never put you there before, have I?” 

It was one of the games Lupin played with himself; hiding his booze. It started in school when he was in charge of hiding any and all mind altering substances from James, but now it was him hiding it from himself. Lupin’s drunk self had some very interesting hiding places. 

He poured himself a drink; three parts firewhiskey one part tea. 

Being a 'brother' at one of those camps wouldn't even be as bad as this. Gaining a friend or brother, no matter how fake, was better than gaining a wife. There were no binding legal contracts in friendships. 

Magical marriages were very serious. Nuptial bonds were the most powerful contract after the Unbreakable Vow, and took a lengthy ceremony to be properly set. The phrase ‘till death do us part’ was literal. 

Wizards who wanted more lax rules in their marriages used muggle officiants. Most wizard-muggle marriages typically decided to avoid nuptial vows all together in case of difficulty later on. 

Lupin doubted that the Ministry would let them get out of it that easy.  _ Bastards. _

He tilted his head back to drain the rest of his mug. The firewhiskey had turned the sticky heat inside him into a pleasant warmth. He stood up, wondering where to put the rest of the firewhiskey. It was probably unwise to put it inside oven, but it’d be pretty funny to deal with a hot bottle of booze the next time he tried to use it. 

The over shut loudly and Lupin snickered. His eyelids were heavy, and he did not want to sleep on the couch. 

His feet were heavy on the stairs. He hadn’t drank enough to be swaying but he had had enough to only be able to think about the placement of his feet. One stairs at a time, leaning on the railing. 

It wasn’t until he was back on his bed that the only sounds in the upstairs were the ones he had been making. The girl had been entirely silent; not a moan or a whimper or a sniffle came from her room. Laying on his side in bed, the only thing he could hear was his own breathing. Finally it was quiet. 

Lupin had little trouble falling to sleep.

There were no dreams to be had. 


End file.
